


in the mountain's shadow

by snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:06:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1489357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/snowmissus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where in the world those rumors had even started from, he had no clue. Nothing had transpired between himself and Thorin for anyone to see.</p><p>Even if Bilbo would have liked fuel for that particular fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the mountain's shadow

**Author's Note:**

> im probably going to write more in this universe  
> and dont hate the female oc her character will be more revealed in other works

The rumors had first started during the first few months of the reconstruction of Erebor.

And Bilbo did not dream of gorgeous blue eyes or anything like that, thank you very much. He had certainly told the better part of the dwarrows from the Iron Hills that though they did not appear to be listening to him.

Maybe he _had_ had a dream involving the king but that definitely was his business and his business alone. But what he heard from the dwarrows, around corners and in crannies, what he heard from them did not match up. Now, however, as he walked alone in the halls of Erebor towards the throne room (a long year after the rumors first had begun), it became apparent, at least to him, that not only was he being followed, but whoever it was did not want to be seen.

Putting it lightly, Bilbo had become rather annoyed with this whole act.

When he had first noticed this particular dwarf following him, he’d decided on a plan. They were approaching a rough corner, in which a hidden hallway sat. As he rounded this corner, he would slide easily into the hallway and wait.

Waiting for them took longer than he had predicted. The dwarf had been further behind him than he had though, but all dwarrows walked hard on the ground and he could hear the heavy trod of their boots upon the stone floor. As they finally came around the corner, he slid out. The dwarrow, rather a Dwarrowdam, shrieked as she jumped back in surprise.

“Oh,” she said when she’d finally calmed down, a hand on her chest. “Master Baggins! What a surprise.”

“Right,” Bilbo replied, the look on his face saying he didn’t believe her claim for a moment. “What can I help you with? I mean, I assume you wanted something from me, otherwise you would not have been following me for the last hour. And with how persistent you have been with your following, I also assume you must need help with whatever it may be.”

“No, no, master Baggins, forgive me,” the dwarrowdam looked and sounded properly embarrassed. After dealing with invasive and nosey dwarrows (why, they were worse than Lobelia!), he felt a certain amount of satisfaction at calling them out. “Vonya, at your service.”

“Well, Lady Vonya, please tell me what exactly it is you want, I am rather in a hurry.”

“To see the King, I suppose?” Vonya asked her question with a wide grin. Here we go, Bilbo thought with a small sigh.

“Yes,” he said sharply. “We are supposed to be meeting with King Thranduil and I don’t like to think of what will happen if I’m not there as a middle man.”

“Indeed,” she said, a grin set firmly on her lips. “Our King would likely be nowhere without you, if I may say.”

“Listen-” Bilbo started, but Vonya cut him off before he could go any further.

“Don’t be modest, master Baggins! Why, without you the King and his company would have been unable to escape Mirkwood or sneak past the dragon. We dwarrows greatly respect you and what we have heard of your deeds. I can’t help but wonder… surely, you and the King are closer than simple friendship.”

Bilbo balked, his mouth dropping open in surprise. He’d run across a great deal of bluntness from the dwarrows, but no one had ever actually said anything directly to him!

“E-excuse me,” he managed, spluttering for words. “That is highly inappropriate of you to ask! Besides, Thorin and I are nothing more than close friends as one might be after such an adventure.”

Vonya held his gaze for a moment, before shaking her head in disappointment. With that, she turned on her heel and made her way loudly back the way she came. Likely, Bilbo thought, to a group of dwarrows waiting for her report back. Good! He hoped they’d all be rather disappointed.

But… but maybe he himself felt a sliver of disappointment deep in his heart. Yes, he did have feelings for Thorin, the sort that he really should not have. The King happened to be far too busy for Bilbo, anyway.

The Company had been his comfort when he thought too long on it while the Iron Hill dwarrows were a pushing force of guilt. Where in the world those rumors had even started from, he had no clue. Nothing had transpired between himself an Thorin for anyone to see.

Even if Bilbo would have liked fuel for that particular fire.

-

Any meeting with the Elven King tended to leave Thorin in a foul mood. With Bilbo there, things were more controlled although they still ended up with one irritated dwarf king grumbling likely rude words in his own language. However, once they were away from the presence of Thranduil, Thorin seemed to relax back into a calmer, less irritated state.

Bilbo tried not to think it was due to him.

“See?” He grinned as Thorin looked over at him. “That wasn’t terrible.”

“You and I have different definitions of terrible, Bilbo,” the King merely sounded amused, as they walked calmly along the halls. It was not uncommon, in these days, for them to spend their short times together walking. “But your presence is ever calming to me. Even Thranduil is tolerable with you in the room.”

“You flatter me too much, I should think,” Bilbo laughed, hiding his smile in his wrist.

“No, I think not enough, you deserve much more than I have been able to give you,” Thorin inclined his head as they paused, letting a group of dwarrows from the Iron Hills by. “Or rather, what you have let me give you.”

“And I have assured you I have no use of any amount of gold! If you truly believe I need more proof of your gratitude, give me something more practical.”

“I certainly am endeavoring to, though I have yet to find any existing gift that could live up to the value of gold,” the dwarf watched the group patiently, waiting for them to turn fully around the corner.

“Oh, Thorin, I have been meaning to ask if you have heard-”

Bilbo did not finish his sentence, as a dwarrowdam broke from the group. The hobbit knew her immediately as the one he’d had a run in with earlier that day. Thorin acknowledged her intrusion on their conversation with a practiced smile.

“Lady Vonya,” he greeted. “I do hope you are well enjoying your stay in Erebor. What may we help you with?”

“Erebor is as lovely as I have imagined it to be, King Thorin,” Vonya talked as though her eyes were not locked on the small figure of Bilbo. It was unnerving. “But I require nothing. I simply wished to say hello.”

“I thank you for the compliment to my kingdom,” Thorin replied, a pleasant look taking over his features. “Unfortunately, though I do appreciate the greetings, Master Baggins must be on our way.”

“Hm,” she said. “I do have question, however. Are you looking forward to the arrival of the last caravans from Ered Luin? I understand your sister made the final decision of coming here.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “She wished to come after we had announced Erebor fully restored but it was wiser for her to stay and secure Ered Luin before she left. I am sure Erebor will thrive better with my sister here however, as her sons will be out of mischief as well.”

Vonya smiled lightly, and Bilbo thought he felt his stomach roll.

“I won’t hold you any longer, my King,” she said, bowing to him before disappearing back after the group that she’d originally departed from. When she disappeared around the corner, Thorin’s mouth fell into a frown.

“I love my cousin, but if he attempts yet another matchmaking session with me, I may very well kill him,” Thorin grimaced. But he focused his attention back on Bilbo and all of the stress in his face fled. “Ah, but you were asking me something, were you not?”

Bilbo only felt defeated now and he dropped his eyes to his bared feet. How silly he was… A hobbit in a mountain full of great dwarrows like Thorin and the Company. He did not belong nor did he have a right to ask the king about the rumors. It would be much better if that stayed from his friend’s mind.

“You know,” he managed, tucking his fingers into his waist coat’s pockets. “I do believe I have forgotten. I wouldn’t worry. But you did not tell me your sister would be coming.”

That at least took his mind off it. Bilbo had heard small tales and such of the king’s sister, of Fili and Kili’s mother, the Lady Dis. He had been, admittedly, a bit excited at the prospect of meeting her. She’d also been the one to secure Bag End, even going as far as sending him a few of his things. It made Erebor homier, despite the fact that he would never have a grand garden again.

“She debated it for a rather long time, if you ask me. But her sons are here and I am as well. We have figured out the situation there, but it is nothing to worry about. Many of my people have elected to follow here, as you have seen. There are a few who do not wish to leave their homes, the ones they have established and I suppose I cannot blame them,” Thorin began walking again as he talked. “The last caravan has many families. My sister among them, but Gloin’s wife and son will be arriving with her and Bombur’s family too.”

“Well, I am delighted to be meeting her and the others!” And that was a truth. Bilbo thought he nearly knew Gloin’s wife and young Gimli, after all he had heard quite a bit about them. “I do hope she will like me.”

“She will,” the dwarf looked confident in that statement. He said no more, as a dwarf came barreling around the corner and nearly into them. But Thorin easily stepped aside. This dwarf was one of the many that had switched from under Dain’s ruling to Thorin’s. They all worked efficiently as messengers for the King and the Company.

“My King,” he bowed before straightening up. “Lord Balin has requested your presence, on urgent matters he has said. He seemed to think you had some sort of meeting, although I reminded him that you had the meeting with King Thranduil this morning.”

“And so I did,” Thorin said, but he nodded gratefully. “I nearly forgot. Please excuse me, Bilbo, but I am afraid I must talk to Balin. Perhaps I will see you later.”

The hobbit sighed as he watched Thorin depart. Rarely had they ever time together and here it was, being thoroughly interrupted. He resolved to spend the remaining afternoon among the company of Fili and Kili. That was the safest place, as the two stayed in their rooms when not causing mischief in Erebor or attending other meetings.

At this time of the day, they were both no doubt back in their rooms. They enjoyed spending time with him, just as well.

Though he liked the royal hall well enough, he had more than once refused use of the empty rooms. Thorin had been, to put it nicely, extremely persistent about it until Bilbo had put his foot down. He did not desire large rooms, as they were already big enough to him. The King could suck it up.

He did not bother knocking, as the two princes had become used to him showing up in the midst of days with no announcement besides inserting himself easily into their conversation.

They were there, to his immediate relief. Rarely did he hear a word from the boys’ mouth about the supposed romance between the hobbit and their uncle. It was not that they were not interested, but neither of them needed the gossip. Were something going on, they likely would have known.

Fili had his feet kicked up, a book hovered over his face and Kili lay across his brother’s stomach. The younger of the two brothers appeared to be napping, but as it was to be the beginning of a warm summer soon, it came as little surprise to Bilbo.

The three of them sat in a comfortable silence for a long while, until Bilbo thought maybe dinner might be upon on them, and then Fili set his book aside. Besides that he did not move, perhaps in hopes not to wake his sleeping brother.

“You like flowers, right?”

Bilbo tried not to let the laugh slip, but it did. He’d been asked that question by nearly every member of the company in the last few months and he had always responded with a yes.

“Yes, yes, I am sure you have heard by this point, so I do not quite understand why you ask me,” the hobbit hummed, picking up the prince’s book. It was all in Khuzdul, impossible for Bilbo to read but he skimmed through anyway. Many of the tomes and scrolls in Erebor’s library had lovely drawings within them and he liked looking at them. To his surprise, this one had illustrations of flowers. Not any type Bilbo had seen, however.

He traced his fingers carefully over the detailed flora, interested in why in Eru’s name the prince had this book and that it even existed. Thorin had seemed indifferent when he talked of his garden, as many dwarrows had been thus far. Gardening did not do much for them, much like how he felt when it came to mining.

“Supposedly, they’re the flowers that grow around this area,” Fili said, watching Bilbo with thinly veiled interest. “I don’t know much of what has survived Smaug’s reign of this land though.”

“Hm,” Bilbo said, blinking as he turned another page. The illustrations were extraordinarily well done. Maybe even better than a flower pressed between pages. “This is remarkable.”

“It was likely done by a scribe, like Ori,” the prince replied. Kili stirred awake slowly.

Bilbo did not expect much out of either of them at this point. And in any case, his interest dropped as he thought about dinner.

That night, Bilbo tried to lie peacefully in bed. But a constant nagging at the back of his mind enjoyed keeping him far more awake than he needed. He tossed and turned, groaning into his pillows when nothing worked. Had he been home, in the Shire, at Bag End, he would have stepped outside, sat in the depths of his garden and smoked Old Toby lightly in the moonlight.

But he could not.

Bilbo ached for home.

A morning a week following, everything and everyone in Erebor seemed a whole world away from him. At least, that seemed to be the feeling. Not a single dwarf stopped him on his way to the kitchens. He heard no rumor or talk involving his relationship with the King.

No… things were oddly nice and calm. The hobbit did not like it, but he felt himself too tired to do anything about it properly.

Thorin hadn’t said anything about any meeting for this day the night before, but seeking him out only became harder when he had no planned time. In fact, Bilbo couldn’t figure if he was even in Erebor this day.

Lately, though, everything had been focused on preparing for the arrival of the last caravans coming in from the Blue Mountains. To him, Bilbo found those dwarrows that came from Thorin’s old halls were kind, and they liked him just as much as the Company.

With a yawn, he made to push open the door to the kitchens but he was stopped by a messenger walking quickly his way. Rarely the dwarrows of the company used messengers with Bilbo, as he kept to himself or around Thorin enough that it was rather unnecessary. Now though, this messenger looked more than a little determined.

“Master Bilbo,” he greeted, inclining his head in a bow. It had been established a while ago that full bows were not needed among the members of the Company, excluding Thorin and his nephews as they were royalty and that was rather tradition. Bilbo had a hard time convincing the dwarrows that he did not need to be bowed to. “Forgive me, but Master Ori and the princes have requested your presence.”

“Whatever for?” Bilbo attempted to not look too exasperated. The three were not currently the youngest dwarrows in the kingdom, but they acted like it when grouped together. He had managed them out of trouble far too many times to count.

“The princes are visiting Dale today, they thought that you might like to accompany them. Master Ori said that there might be teas in the market there as well,” the messenger looked nervous as he relayed the request. But he had no need to worry.

Bilbo had not been to Dale in the last few months, caught up in meetings and translating texts from Sindarin to Westron. It would be nice, he thought, to step out of Erebor for a few hours and come back with teas and candles.

“Where are they, then?” Bilbo asked, smiling happily.

He’d already had breakfast and though he had been keen on enjoying a small second breakfast, he could do without for one day. Perhaps he grinned slightly to himself at the thought of what Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would have thought.

“I can just take you to them, Master Baggins,” the dwarf insisted and Bilbo let him. Though the dwarf seemed still a tad on edge. Well, the impending arrival of the King’s sister might be stressful to more than just the King himself. Bilbo himself had nerves about it.

But he cast it away, focusing on a mental list of what he hoped to find in Dale’s market. Even a year later, they would not have everything he would truly want. Help from the Blue Mountains and other men kingdoms had come, easing their recovery but it was still just that, a recovery.

A crowding of dwarrows occupied the inside of the front gate into the mountain. Even then, the dwarf leading him easily maneuvered around the crowd and to a small grouping. Fili looked up first, hand shooting up in a wave which attracted the attention of his brother and Ori. The three of them were dressed far more casually than they should have been for the market. Though, Bilbo would not scold them. Summer had come only days before.

“I’d say you’re all dressed more casually than you should be for the market!” He exclaimed but grinned. “Is it nice out today, then?”

“Oh yes, Bilbo,” Kili grinned, wrapping an arm around the hobbit’s shoulders. “Why don’t we step outside? See what it’s like? We aren’t in a rush at all.”

“Certainly,” Bilbo nodded, though he threw the eldest of the three a confused look as Fili pushed Kili’s arm off of his shoulders. Ori looked sheepish as they ordered the gates open to let the four of them out.

“I think you’ll like it today,” Fili said, a similar grin on his face.

“If you say so,” the hobbit frowned slightly. He certainly appreciated the warm weather and being outside of the mountain. Their insistence was causing him suspicion. “You know, I find it odd… I haven’t seen your uncle in the last few days much.”

As the gate opened, he yelped when Kili’s hands covered his eyes.

“Excuse me!” He managed, anger rising. Bilbo very much wanted to see the green grass, the blue sky and the bright sun. All he could do was feel as they walked out of Erebor. The road he felt under his feet for only a few moments, before the soft grass tickled his feet.

Kili talked as though he had not just blocked out the vision of the Halfling.

“Uncle has just been busy with preparations for when our ‘amad arrives. We are going to have a sort of feast and celebration, inviting the men and all that as well.”

It was an odd bit of a stumble, trying to walk with Kili keeping his hands over Bilbo’s eyes. He could hear Fili and Ori talking, he could hear the sound of their booted feet through the grass. As they continued to draw further into the grassy area around the gates, he could hear other voices from a distant.

“We are we going!” Bilbo demanded but Kili shushed him instead. “I am going to-”

“Kili,” a voice interrupted. “Unhand Bilbo this instant.”

The hands fell from his eyes and he blinked a couple of times, ridding the instant brightness from his eyes as quickly as he could before he had to deal with it obscuring his vision. Thorin stood in front of them, arms crossed over his chest. Bilbo had eyes for him but a moment.

For behind him lay a grand flower garden, or what he guessed to be one. It certainly had not been there long otherwise he would have noticed it.

It held flowers he had not seen before, but they were of lovely, familiar colors and a comfort rose in him that he had not yet been able to find within Erebor. Beyond that, Bilbo had never seen a garden so large as this one. It had paths through it and from here he could see at least one bench placed strategically for one such as himself to sit quietly in. His heart swelled. As he inspected the garden, he heard the retreat of the three dwarrows that had thieved him over to the garden. Suddenly, he found himself too afraid to move at all. And he could no longer look at the flowers. Instead, he drew his gaze back to the King.

Thorin looks apprehensively at him, a questioning look for approval.

“This,” he said, mouth falling open in surprise finally. “This is marvelous.”

“Thank you,” Thorin said, his shoulders losing a bit of their tension. “I hoped you would like it. It is yours.”

“You…” The shock of the blunt statement shocked him of words for a long moment. “You made this for me?”

“Aye.” Thorin searched his face in confusion, his shoulders seizing up again. “I… thought you would like it. Do you?”

“Oh. Oh yes, I did just say that!” Bilbo smiled, hoping it would cease the tension in his shoulders. “I love it!”

“Truly? That’s… good. It makes me happy. I know it isn’t much but I wanted to show you my gratitude for… everything you’ve done,” the dwarf king sounded relieved, his shoulders relaxing completely now.

“It’s perfect,” Bilbo assured him. He could not hope, of course, but he had for a moment, with Thorin standing there in front of the garden. Thorin did not know what it meant to literally give someone a garden and well, this wasn’t the Shire, now was it? He let his heart calm itself down. “Thank you.”

As he approached the garden cautiously, the happenings over the last year began making more and more sense. The inquiries about flowers had been a constant throughout the company but he had thought they were just interested! Fili’s reading of the book with flower illustrations came into sense and Thorin’s disappearances, especially recent…

He attempted to keep his calm. Had this been the Shire, well, than this would have been a rather bold move on Thorin’s part but of course, no, it wasn’t. Bilbo smiled softly still, for a piece of home had managed its way to him. The final piece he’d been missing.

“Would you like to walk through it?” Thorin startled him but Bilbo nodded.

Taking a step into the garden, he registered the weight of the king’s hand resting lightly on the small of his back. They walked along the path constructed into the garden until they came to the bench. Neither sat, but this time Bilbo looked around slowly.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what any of these flowers are,” he admitted but Thorin didn’t appear surprised.

“I am sorry, Bilbo, if I could have had flowers you knew here, I would but there are only certain flowers that are able to grow here. Few flowers flourish in the mountain’s shadow,” the dwarf said softly. He did look truly apologetic.

Bilbo wanted to demand if he knew what the implications of this gesture were, but if he did then he might have to explain them and he could not bear that.

“They are still lovely, regardless, and I think I should like taking care of flowers I have yet to know,” Bilbo decided.

“You will do a wonderful job,” Thorin replied, a bright and small smile gracing his lips.

Something in Bilbo caved at that, his heart pounding wildly as he tried to control the sudden shortness of his breath. Shakily, he sat down on the bench in hopes it would calm him down and he wouldn’t say something that could ruin everything.

The King sat down next to him, a frown taking over that disastrous smile.

“Are you alright?” Thorin moved closer, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Do you need me to call for Óin?”

“No, no, I,” he sucked in a shaky breath. Closing his eyes, he counted backwards from ten before opening them again and looking at Thorin. His Tookish side struck then, thinking of how his father had gifted his Took mother with Bag End. Here he was, being given a garden by a king. Were things slightly different, Bilbo might have tackled the dwarf into the flowers. “Thorin,” he managed, his voice cracking slightly.

“Bilbo,” he replied, the look of concern on his face only growing. “I think I should call Óin, you are red in the face. Is this heat too much for you?” 

“No,” Bilbo said sharply, startling Thorin. “Thorin. Do you know what hobbits love most in the world?”

Thorin shook his head, a frown tracing onto his lips yet again.

“I’m sure I have told you that we are creatures of comfort, so the things we enjoy are rather simple to other races but, well, we have always shared a love of things that grow,” Bilbo said, keeping his voice levelled. He looked over the garden, of the flowers he would love no matter their names or meanings that he did not know. “This… well I mean to say, you see, being gifted flowers is generally of a romantic intent.”

“I-”

Bilbo cut off Thorin as quickly as he could. If this was to be it, he wanted all his feelings out in the open now. At least he would have his garden then.

“Usually it’s just a few flowers, a crown made of flowers or such. I’ve never actually heard of anyone giving an entire garden of course, because rather the gifting of flowers is an implication that you want your garden to be theirs as well,” Bilbo kept his eyes on the flowers. “In the Shire, this would be a grand gesture. I’d even say we might have been married on the spot. Lobelia would be scandalized.”

And he said that with complete joy, at imagining his cousin’s shock and likely spluttering. Beside him, Thorin had stiffened. Bilbo closed his eyes again, cursing himself softly. Let his Tookish side get the better of him, it rarely did well for him!

“I meant you no offense, Bilbo,” Thorin said, his voice quiet and distant.

“Wait,” he held up a hand and then tore his eyes away from the flora finally. The King looked conflicted, his mouth twisted. “I never said against it. If you had… meant such things with this, if you had known, I would have said yes.”

There went the remaining of his Tookish side for at least the month. How he managed to keep gaze with Thorin past that, he didn’t know. Perhaps a lick of the stubbornness of Bagginses, but either way, his heart leapt into his throat. The dwarf stared at him in a troubled way.

“And what if I did? What if I did now?” Thorin leaned forward, invading Bilbo’s space with just those few inches. “Would you?”

“I…” Bilbo tried not to lean away. “I would.”

His heart pounded, loud in his ears and he thought that Thorin might have heard it. Before he could think much on anything, Thorin’s hand slid to cupping his cheek and the other rested on his waist. A thumb stroked over his cheek before the dwarf slotted their mouths together.

Bilbo sagged forward, an unknown weight on his shoulders lifted. The kiss was slow, soft and careful, every bit cautious as though Thorin had no idea if he could anything but press their lips together.

Thorin pulled back, resting their foreheads together and breathing in. When he opened his eyes, Bilbo smiled softly at him and he watched the dwarf’s face turn red quickly. They stared at each other for a long while before Thorin leaned back in, kissing him harder, though still cautious. The kissing progressed, heating up to the point where they toppled off the bench.

They lay there, hidden by the flowers.

Bilbo sprawled on top of the king. The sun on his back warmed him, though looking down at the him now that too stirred a warmth within him. Thorin kept a hand softly on his lower back, rubbing circle with one thumb. He smiled, and the hobbit thought this might be the first time he'd seen the dwarf completely unstressed. And, Bilbo was inclined to think, he himself had never truly felt this content. 

The afternoon warmed on, but neither did much more than their preoccupation with each other until the sun began setting. At that point, the sound of feet tugged Bilbo out of his delirious state. Fili rounded the corner of the path, abruptly stopping and letting out a displeased noise.

“Put your clothes on!” The prince shrieked, covering his eyes and turning around as quickly as he could. “Honestly, uncle, you are a king and this is a garden outside your mountain. You could try to have some decency!”

“Not going to scold Bilbo?” Thorin asked, the amusement in his voice high as he did comply with his nephew’s demand.

“Bilbo is not my uncle nor the King of a kingdom, although I think he might have tried to preserve some sense of decency as well,” Fili groaned into his hands. “Or yours at least.”

“I might well be your uncle soon,” Bilbo said, grinning into his elbow while he lay comfortable in the grass. The flowers hid him from view of anyone and the warmth of the sun on his skin did little to encourage him to move. Though he would, before he lost the current state he was in. Otherwise he might be wordlessly embarrassed. 


End file.
